Finding Amy
by Amaryllis3121
Summary: A crossover written by me and my friend. Amy goes missing and the Doctor's at a loss as to what to do. That is, until the TARDIS has a very good idea indeed...
1. Prologue

**So here's something my friend Emilehh and I are co-writing. Just for a heads up, I'm writing the Sherlock-related character's PoV bits and she's writing the Doctor Who-related character's PoV. Alrighty? Then enjoy :).**

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><p>John struggled up the stairs, aching arms weighed down by shopping bags. He finally made it to the top step with a sigh of relief and glanced into the sitting room. No sign of Sherlock. It would be nice, he reflected, if for once he would be around to offer him some kind of help.<p>

Unfortunately for John, help was the furthest thing from the detective's mind. The shopping bags hit the floor with a dull thud as John tripped over some crockery, carelessly scattered around the doorway in the kitchen. As he fell, he caught sight of a tall figure stooped over, poking about beneath the sink.

"John, where's my skull?" Sherlock asked, without turning to face his flat mate.

"On the mantlepiece, last I saw," John responded, rather more preoccupied with the teapot that was digging into his hip.

"Not there now," came the short reply.

"Then I don't know. Maybe Mrs. Hudson hid it again."

"No. I've already questioned her." Sherlock emerged from the cupboard and peered at his friend. "You're on the floor, John."

"And it doesn't take the world's only consulting detective to figure out why." John picked himself up and surveyed the mess of various utensils, appliances and scattered shopping. "Sherlock, this is a bit excessive. Just for a skull."

Sherlock clearly wasn't listening. His eyebrows knitted together in his classic 'thinking face'.

"Aha!" he cried suddenly, almost knocking John over again as he rushed past.

"I'll put away the shopping then, shall I?"

No reply.

John nodded to himself. "Of course. Every time."

As he bent down to pick up the carrier bags that hadn't split, a chill shot up his spine, almost like an electric shock. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The sensation was over as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling a little unsettled.

"Sherlock, did you feel that?"

When he received no reply once again, he dismissed it, busying himself with cleaning the broken eggs off the oven chips. If only he'd have thought to check on his flat-mate, he might have realised that something was afoot.

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><p>The Doctor whistled as he threw himself around the TARDIS console, redesigning the desktop... Again. It took him ages to find one he <em>really <em>liked. He finally decided on one, and then took it back off.

"Hmm," he said to himself. "Amy, do you think that Vesuvius sounds good? I mean, from a safe distance..."

He turned around when there was no answer and sighed. No Amy, as it had been for the last few months.

"Silly old Doctor." he said, directing his words at himself once more. "I have to find her. I've been looking for weeks now."

He sat down and sighed again. Suddenly, he heard an abnormal beeping coming from the TARDIS console.

"Oh dear, old girl, what is it?"

"Unexpected item in bagging area."

"TARDIS, I am not taking you to Tesco again. I assume you liked the look of one of those machines. Look, please move on. We're not going back." He paused. "Anyway... Amy. Finding her." The Doctor buried his head in his hands. "So, Sexy, have you got any ideas?" He used his nickname for his TARDIS, the one he used when they were alone. He had never felt more alone in his life.

Suddenly, a message popped up on the display screen. Two words: _Sherlock Holmes_.

"Sherlock Holmes? But... Sexy, that's a fantastic idea! Let's go!"

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed, reviews are very much appreciated :).<strong>


	2. Chapter One

**Okay, so here's chapter one. Uh, because there's so much dialogue and stuff, we switched it up a bit. I've written all of Sherlock's dialogue and point of view and Emilehh's written The Doctor's. We both wrote Rory where appropriate. There's no fixed point of view any more either. So enjoy :).**

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><p>The Doctor ran to the door of his TARDIS and pulled it open. He was confused to see that they was still in the middle of deep space.<p>

"Uh, TARDIS... I said let's go! To Sherlock Holmes!" Another beeping started. "What?" The Doctor exclaimed. "That's the siren to say that she's picked someone up... But that's impossible! We're in deep space!"

He ran over to his screen, and looked at the display. There, in his swimming pool (which was still in the library) was someone. A man. Tall, dark haired and skinny. And also wearing nothing but a bedsheet.

"Who on earth is THAT?" The Doctor wondered aloud. He hurried down the corridor to his swimming pool and cautiously entered. "Sorry, but who are you, and what are you doing in my TARDIS?" The Doctor asked.

The man turned around sharply.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes," he replied calmly, "and I was rather hoping you could answer that question for me."

"Oh, you're Sherlock Holmes? 'Unexpected item in bagging area'. I see. Well, as for what you're doing here, I have no idea. Oh, by the way, I'm The Doctor. Before you ask, just The Doctor." He paused for breath. "Why are you only wearing a bedsheet?" He stared in disbelief at the gentleman before him, trying to process in his mind how he got into his TARDIS and- the fact pushing to the front of his mind- why on earth the man was only dressed in a bedsheet.

"I wasn't expecting to leave the flat today," Sherlock replied tersely. "Exactly where am I, Doctor? Who are you? And as for how I got here... well, that should be obvious. You need me."

"You're right, I do. A friend of mine has gone missing. My best friend. I don't know where she is. Thing is, she could be anywhere in space. And time. So, you've got a real job on your hands. Will you help me?"

Very slowly, Sherlock's face cracked into a grin.

"Brilliant. Just... brilliant. Is this an early birthday present?"

"Er- if you want it to be... Look, you're going to need some clothes. Any preference? Or just anything I can find?"

"A suit. Black, with a white shirt. No tie."

"I'll try, won't be a mo."

The Doctor sprinted off to his massive wardrobe. "Black suit, black suit... Ah! Here we are, perfect. Now, for a white shirt. Ah, yes. Good." He gathered said items in his arms as he spoke. "Hang on," he muttered thinking aloud to himself, "Sherlock Holmes? Doesn't he have a deerstalker? I'll grab one of those too. Oh, and black polished shoes. I assume they're his sort." The Doctor went back to the swimming pool. "Sherlock? Here." He tossed the clothes to the detective.

"Ah. Clothes. Excellent." Sherlock began to dress while the Doctor averted his eyes. "You said this woman could be anywhere in space and time. Explain."

"Yeah. Anywhere. You see, Sherlock, I'm a time traveller. Seriously. And she was taken by a mob, from a planet we was visiting. I don't even know if she's in this universe- I've scanned for her so many times. And that's why I've come to you for help."

"A time traveller, eh?" Sherlock pondered, appraising the Doctor. "You puzzle me Doctor. The name, the tall stories, the clothes... You don't exactly scream 'sane man'. And yet I am inclined to believe you. I can see it in your eyes that you believe every word you're saying. You are not lying. Which leaves only madness or truth. And I know true madness."

"I'm not mad. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. It was a beautiful planet, with red grass, which was capped with snow. We travel in time and space, in our TARDISs. TARDIS stands for 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space'." All of a sudden, he indicated the deerstalker Sherlock was absently clutching. "Aren't you going to put your hat on?"

Sherlock looked down at the hat with a noise of disgust, tossing it aside. It skidded across the tiled floor and fell into the pool. Feeling the Doctor's gaze on him, he looked up to meet the indignant expression on the supposed-time-traveller's face.

"I've never liked deerstalkers," he said curtly.

"But... Deerstalkers are cool! All hats are cool! Look! I have a fez!"

The Doctor pulled out his fez, a replacement for the old one that River shot down. Sherlock looked at him with a mixture of disgust and amusement.

"Yes..." he agreed dubiously. "Anyway. The case..."

"Ah. Yes. The case." The Doctor turned to leave the room and Sherlock followed him into the long corridor outside. "Well, you see, me and Amy were visiting a planet, planet of coffee shops actually. She loves coffee. We were walking back to the TARDIS, and suddenly she was gone. No trace of her. I don't know who took her, or why. She does have enemies, but I thought they were long gone."

"Enemies?"

"Yes. A while ago, she was pregnant and she was taken then. Taken by these people, who wanted her baby to condition it to kill someone. Namely, me. However, Amy's daughter, who is called River Song, ended up falling on love with me instead and we got married."

"So there's one suspect so far. Anyone else? What about you? Anyone who could have taken her to get at you?"

"I'm the last existing Time Lord, and I've crossed a lot of people. I've stopped a lot of invasions, that sort of thing. I can't keep track of everyone who I've stopped mass invading and slaughtering Earth and its inhabitants."

"So you're saying she could have been taken anywhere by anybody? Oh, this is brilliant! Is there a crime scene? Somewhere we might gather some clues?"

"Crime scene? ...Well, not really. I tried to get clues. Nada. Nowt. Nothing."

"Then perhaps her house? Not as telling, but it might do."

"But she was taken. With force. Why would she be taken to her own house?"

"She wouldn't, but there might be some kind of clue as to who took her."

"We might as well I suppose, I have to go and see Amy's husband."

"Husband? Where was he?"

"He was at home at the time. Assuming he's still there, we'll go and inform him that I still haven't found her but not to worry because Sherlock Holmes in on the case. He wanted to help look too, naturally. But I told him to stay at home in case they took him too."

"I see." The Doctor took a sharp left and they emerged on a balcony overlooking a huge, circular room. A giant console sat in the centre. "I assume this must be your ship then."

"Ship? Yes, I suppose you could call it that. Although it's nothing like a ship. But if it helps to think of it like a ship, it's a ship."

"And this is your control room?"

"That would be correct, yes. Although it's nothing like your average control room. But if it helps to think of it like that, it is."

"I'm sure I could understand it either way. How long will it take us to get to this girl's house?"

"In my TARDIS? No time at all," The Doctor scoffed. "Just a sec..." He fiddled with the controls for a moment, then the machine took off. "Okay. We should be here."

Sherlock followed The Doctor out through the doors, taking in the house that stood before him. It looked perfectly ordinary, but he had a feeling there could be a clue hidden somewhere inside. The Doctor's words cut through his thoughts before he had time to think of _what _that clue could be.

"Ah, Rory's come out to greet us."

"Anything, Doctor?" Rory asked anxiously.

"Rory, I'm sorry. Nothing. However, this man is going to help," The Doctor said, pointing at Sherlock.

"Sherlock Holmes." He ignored Rory's outstretched hand. "Do you have a dog?"

"Uh, no... Why?"

"Dog hairs on your knees. Only two, suggests it isn't _your _dog. I would guess they're not off a friend or family member's dog since there's so few. The dog wouldn't have been used to you so it would have been all over you. There would be more hairs. Am I correct?"

Rory stared open mouthed at Sherlock, confused. "Um... yes. That sounds just about right."

"Wow," said The Doctor, "almost as good as me. Blimey, Sherlock could give me a run for my money, eh Rory?"

"Fantastic," Sherlock said in monotone. "Can I come inside?" He didn't wait for an answer, striding off down the garden path.

"Don't mind him," The Doctor muttered to Rory. "Terrible show off. He's worse than me. Come on, we'd better follow him. Who knows how much damage he could do without us?"

Sherlock entered the house ahead of the others, immediately noting every mark on the walls and dismissing them all as unrelated. Curiously, he picked up some post off the side, speaking as he rifled through it.

"Before she vanished was she acting suspiciously? Any odd phone calls or mysterious meetings?"

"Not that I know of, no. Nothing really happens here in Leadworth."

"Doctor?" said Sherlock, discarding the letters in a messy heap.

"Not really. She was by my side the whole time. Oh, apart from when she wondered away to ring Rory."

Rory stared at the Doctor. "She didn't phone me. I didn't speak to her all day."

Sherlock clapped his hands together. "Brilliant. So we know she knew about it in advance."

"Wait, how do you know for sure?" Rory asked, a little heatedly. "It might have just been a bad connection. She was on another planet after all. Maybe she just couldn't get through."

"Rory!" exclaimed The Doctor. "Calm down. We'll find her. I promise."

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><p><strong>Alright, so there we have it. Reviews are appreciated, as always :).<strong>


	3. Chapter Two

**So here's our next chapter, and I just want to say thanks to the lovely person who's reviewed so far and of course to all of you who've alerted and favourited. So THANK YOU! :D:D. Same rules apply in this chapter- I wrote all the Sherlock dialogue and actions etc, Emilehh wrote all The Doctor's. Also, Emilehh has disclosed that she may be in possession of a TARDIS, which I am most upset about quite frankly, given that this is the first I've heard of it. But anyway, on with the story!**

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><p>Sherlock's eyes flickered around the room, taking in every stain on the carpet, every object on the shelves, every picture on the wall. He took a sip from the cup in front of him and the taste of sweet tea rolled over his tongue. Too sweet. He pushed it away and crossed one leg over the other, finally turning to Rory. He let his gaze linger on the man, silently observing everything he could, but there was nothing he could consider as related. Still, a little bit of showing off couldn't hurt.<p>

"You're nervous. Understandably- you are in the presence of genius."

Rory looked surprised. Of course; he had been hiding it well.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You've been biting your nails. Nasty habit. Of course, it isn't a habit as such. Most of them are intact. You take care of them. But today you've been biting them. You've also been composing a letter in fountain pen. Quite probably to a family member. Not a close one- you've been deliberating on what to write too much."

"How did you know?"

"The ink on your right hand. Small smudges, where you've dragged your hand over words that haven't dried. That tells me that you've been going back over what you've written and crossing it out, by the shape of the smudges- they appear to have been created by moving your hand sideways across the page rather than down, which would be the natural assumption."

"That's brilliant," Rory conceded. "How do you do that?"

Sherlock gave a small, self-satisfied smirk. "I hope that's enough to assuage any concerns you have about me, Mr. Williams."

At that moment, The Doctor entered, balancing a plate of Jammie Dodgers in one hand whilst carrying a strange, tubular device in the other hand. Sherlock looked curiously at its glowing green tip but made no comment, drawing his own conclusions.

"I hope you don't mind, Rory- I found some Jammie Dodgers in the cupboard. My favourite!" He set the plate down, grabbed a handful and chewed on one thoughtfully as he sat down. "So, Sherlock. Any clues on Amy's whereabouts yet? In fact no. Don't tell me. You know everything we need to know already. I've seen your website. 'The science of deduction'. And your friend John also runs a blog." He barely paused for breath. "Speaking of John, have you told him where you are? Contacted him at all?"

Sherlock held up his phone, a grim expression on his face. "No signal. Your ship's interfered with it, it would seem." He shook his head as The Doctor held out the plate of biscuits. "I'll pass – I don't eat while I'm working."

"Here. Pass me your phone." The Doctor then sonicked Sherlock's phone, and then passed it back. "There. Now it'll never lose signal, guaranteed. Now try and contact him."

Sherlock examined the gadget wearily, ignoring the questions that fizzled into his head. His own curiosity could wait- The Doctor struck him as a man who would tell him all, given time (if only just to show off, almost like Sherlock himself) and at that point, there were more important things to worry about.

Before the detective had time to create a message, his phone beeped to signal a text.

**Where are you? -J**

Sherlock hesitated before typing his reply:

**Case. Long story. -SH**

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, looking up at the men before him. "There, it's done. Now, Mr. Williams, can you show me to your bedroom? I need to take a look through Amy's things."

"Yeah, sure." Rory sounded weary and shaken. "Why can't people leave us alone? I've died, twice. I waited two thousand years for her. We never saw our baby grow up. Why can't people leave us alone?"

The Doctor stood there, silent. Rory wasn't usually the one to break down like that, but he knew how committed he was to Amy. His mind wondered back to when Amy was in the Pandorica, and Rory stayed with her for two thousand years, loyal forever. He supposed that it must be tiresome to have your loved one for a few precious moments, then have her snatched away again.

He sighed, his mind wondering to Rose. He knew it shouldn't, but it did. She was long gone and couldn't come back. And he couldn't see her. '_At least she's happy,_' he thought to himself sadly.

He looked up and realised that Rory and Sherlock had gone upstairs, to the bedroom. The Doctor composed himself, and then bounded up the stairs.

"So Sherlock, have you found anything of worth or note?"

"Yes, you could say that..." Sherlock murmured, engrossed in a shoebox he had found under the bed. "Does this look familiar?" He held up a small square object and Rory's eyes widened.

"Her phone? But, how...?"

"How did it get in a box under her bed when she's been missing for weeks? Yes, how indeed." Sherlock pocketed the phone and closed the box, turning to the dresser instead and wrenching the drawers open one by one. His own phone beeped and he paused to look at it.

**Case? Sherlock, WHERE ARE YOU? -J**

Ignoring it, he turned back to his search as Rory protested about the mess he was making.

"Sherlock, this _is _my bedroom, and you're destroying it! Can't you search more... neatly?"

"Rory, just let him do his thaaaaaaaang!" Rory just stared at The Doctor. "Alright, fine. Never saying that again. Rory, we should probably just stand back and let him just... detect. He is a consulting detective after all. And I _have_ consulted him."

"Doctor..." said Rory, "What if he can't find her?"

"Rory. Have faith in him. Give him a chance. He's never failed a case yet." The Doctor awkwardly patted Rory on the shoulder. "This time Rory, you're coming with us. I'm not risking you disappearing too."

"I hate to interrupt, but I think I've found something else," Sherlock said slowly, pulling the entire drawer out and holding it up to the light, tilting it sideways. With his other hand, he picked up a metal nail file and began scraping at the white paint. Very slowly, it chipped off, revealing small black writing:

**COME QUIETLY**

He stared for a moment, then tucked the drawer under his arm.

"I need a lab," he insisted suddenly.

"Well as luck would have it, I have one back on the TARDIS."

"Doctor, is there anything you _don't_ have in the TARDIS?" asked Rory.

"Hang on... No, there isn't. Wait! Yes, there is. I haven't got a Caribbean bar, complete with dancers and cocktails. Although I think that sounds like a fantastic idea..."

"Anyway..." said Rory.

"Yes, right! Back to the TARDIS! Come on gang!"

The Doctor bounced from the room and down the stairs, the absolute definition of vigour. Sherlock followed at a slower pace, Rory in tow. He mentally checked the hallway again as he passed through to see if there was anything he had missed, but as usual, there was nothing. Just as he stepped from the house, his phone went off again.

**Sherlock, are you in trouble? For your sake, I hope so, otherwise you're deliberately ignoring me. TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE. -J**

Sherlock considered not replying again, just to agitate John more, but eventually decided to text back.

**Will return soon. I'm bringing some new friends. Put the kettle on. -SH**

The response was almost instantaneous.

**Friends? -J**

Smiling slightly at John's confusion, he strode to the TARDIS, slipping his phone back into the breast pocket of his suit. The Doctor was waiting for him inside.

"Ah, there you are," said The Doctor. "So, Sherlock, where now?"

"Baker Street. But first, show me to your lab. There's something I need to check."

"Alright, go straight down there for twenty paces, take a left, a right, another left past the library, then head north west until you hit a dead end. Walk very slowly up to the wall. Then say the words 'tinkle winkle'. The wall will then slide down and open."

"High-security then?" Sherlock asked dryly, already striding off.

"Hey, Rory, come over here," The Doctor called. Rory joined him at the monitor. He had pulled up CCTV images of Sherlock walking through the TARDIS.

"Doctor, is your password really 'tinkle winkle'?" Rory asked, with a smile that told The Doctor he had guessed what he was up to.

"No, of course not," said The Doctor. "I can open the door from here. I just thought it might do him some good if I embarrassed him a bit." They both stared at the screen intently. "Ah, look. He's there. Listen!" The Doctor fiddled for a minute, until the sound came through.

"Tinkle winkle," said Sherlock, clearly feeling foolish.

"Sherlock?" The Doctor called over the intercom, suppressing the grin in his voice. "She's a bit of an old girl, my TARDIS. You might have to shout so she can hear you."

Sherlock hesitated a moment, closing his eyes. "TINKLE WINKLE!" he called at the top of his voice.

The Doctor and Rory were struck with an impossible fit of giggles. Sherlock could still hear and looked about agitatedly, knowing he'd been duped.

"Oh yes, very funny," he called sarcastically. Taking pity on the detective, The Doctor opened the door for him.

"Okay then, that's him sorted. Suppose we'd best be off to Baker Street. so, here we go!"

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><p><strong>Okay, so there you have it. And YES! There WILL be John in the next chapter, I promise you. And yeah, I haven't actually discussed it with Emilehh, but I assume she'll be fine with that. She has, after all, kept her TARDIS a secret from me for this long. The least she owes me is John. ANYWAY, the point is (or isn't actually, but still) reviews are incredibly welcome and it would be fantastic to hear some feedback from our readers!<strong>

**Until the next chapter!**


	4. Chapter Three

**Hello! Well, as my lovely co-writer has explained in a review, I have been severely lacking a laptop and was therefore unable to post, since I simply don't trust Emilehh with my password (not after you hacked my Facebook, bitch ;)). But we're back, anyways, so there's some good news :)!. Enjoy!**

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><p>"Sherlock, we're here." The Doctor said over the tannoy to Sherlock in the lab.<p>

"I'll be out in a moment," Sherlock called back, unsure whether or not The Doctor could actually hear him. He pretended he could. It would be foolish to shout at an empty room, he reasoned, ignoring ever other instance he had done so.

After a quick experiment, Sherlock had discovered that the white paint on the inside of the drawer had nail varnish in it, just as he had suspected. It matched the small bottle of it he had taken from the top of the dresser when nobody was looking, and to Sherlock, that could mean only one thing.

Quickly, he packed away the equipment he had used. There was still much to do, mostly DNA tests on the phone and the wood on the inside of the drawer. The software here was far more advanced than that at St. Bart's, so that would make things much easier. For now though, it was time to enlist John onto the search party.

With hasty footsteps, Sherlock made his way back to the control room in order to share his findings with The Doctor. As he entered the room, he called out a question.

"How long have I been gone?"

"Well, it's been about an hour. But not to worry, I went out to meet John. Told him you were working. Decent bloke, once he came around from the shock of the TARDIS landing in his front room. Offered me a cuppa. No Jammie Dodgers though."

"No, he won't buy biscuits any more. There was an incident." Sherlock strode across the room, offering no more explanation. Without hesitation, he wrenched open the doors and stepped into the flat, fairly impressed that The Doctor had managed to land on the one clear patch of space in the room. He took a quick look around, but everything seemed to be in order. John looked rather pale, however, sat in his favourite armchair and clutching a cup of tea.

"Sherlock? What's-"

"Hush, John. All will be explained."

"Hello, John, we've met... And this is Rory! Rory, meet John."

"Uh, hi. John Watson. Sherlock's colleague."

"Rory Williams. I'm The Doctor's friend."

"This is lovely, really, but I must interrupt the frivolities." Sherlock crossed the room and unhooked his beloved coat from the back of the door. He tossed John's jacket to him. "To cut a long story short, John, we have a case. Mr. Williams' wife has gone mysteriously missing. Oh, and we're about to go travelling through time and space. Questions?"

"Yes," John said, as though it was obvious. "Lots actually. The most pressing- time and space?"

"Timey wimey, wibbly wobbly," The Doctor murmured, not really helping John's case.

Sherlock sighed impatiently and perched on the back of his armchair, feet on the seat cushion. He was eager to get going, but knew it was fairly important that John understood even a little bit of what was going on. He needed him on form.

Luckily, Rory jumped in to save them.

"That," he explained patiently, "is The Doctor's time machine. Or spaceship. It's a long story I suppose, but he's an alien and apparently all of his species had one. My wife, Amy, could be anywhere in all of time or space, so The Doctor hired Sherlock to help us find her."

Sherlock had a feeling John didn't understand much more than he had before Rory had spoken. Still, he nodded, pretending to keep up.

"Right. So why have you come back here?"

Sherlock smirked.

"I can't time-travel without my favourite army doctor on hand, can I?'

"You're a doctor too, John? See, we already have something in common," said The Doctor, smiling as he clicked his fingers, and the TARDIS door opened. He ushered everyone inside, Sherlock having rushed across the room, John trailing behind. "Everyone in. Places to be, yeah? However, I don't quite know where we're off to, so it's over to you, the Holmesmeister!" Sherlock looked at The Doctor with a faint air of disgust, and confusion. "Not Holmesmeister?" The Doctor asked John.

"No. Not really the type for nickames," replied John.

"For now, Doctor," Sherlock cut in, "I would suggest you find a point in space in which to... hover. I will send you coordinates from the lab, as soon as I run one more test. Come along, John."

"Wait. I want to see how this thing flies."

They filed around the central console of the TARDIS. Sherlock and John hung back, observing, as the Doctor wandered around the console and pressed various buttons and pulled various levers. Rory seemed to revolve around him, hovering anxiously nearby like a lost puppy.

"Even for you, Sherlock, this is really weird," John whispered, still looking fairly bewildered.

"Stick with it, John. This could be interesting," Sherlock hissed back.

"Could be?" John asked with a nervous half-laugh. At that moment, the TARDIS sprang to life with a worrying wheezing sound.

"Erm, Doctor, what was that?" enquired Rory.

"That, is the interchanging live-acting hardware booting up!" replied The Doctor. Rory and John looked at each other, rather confused. "Looks like you two will get on rather well." said The Doctor.

"What makes you say that, Doctor?" asked John.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said The Doctor.

"He's saying you're wearing the same idiotically bewildered expression as Mr. Williams here," Sherlock explained sharply. A dull silence fell (Sherlock and The Doctor having been the key components in the conversation and both had lapsed into deep thought).

Suddenly, the TARDIS began to rattle around. It was all John could do to stay upright. He stumbled with each bump, trying to ignore Sherlock's smug expression as he leant against the railings, somehow managing to keep his balance. In all the time he had known him, John was sure he hadn't seen Sherlock trip once. In a way, it was incredibly infuriating.

That all changed a moment later. The TARDIS gave a particularly violent jolt and Sherlock was sent tumbling forwards, hitting his head on the edge of the console. As he righted himself, John bit back a laugh.

"Oh shut up," Sherlock grumbled, rubbing his cheek.

"What's the matter? Hurt your cheekbones?" John smirked.

"Hardly," Sherlock replied haughtily.

The Doctor turned around to see what was going on, being so engrossed in piloting the TARDIS he had missed the antics of a moment ago. Just as he turned around, Sherlock was marching toward one of the many exits in the control room.

"Oh," said The Doctor. "What's wrong with him?"

"No idea," replied John.

"Also, where did Rory go?" The Doctor wondered aloud.

John, unsure if The Doctor wanted an answer, gave one anyway. "He slipped off a while ago. Said something about his bedroom."

"Ah. Yes. Amy and Rory have a bedroom here on board. In fact, in a very strange twist of fate, I am married to their daughter, who was... Erm... Created here on board, and because the TARDIS was in motion at the same time, River Song, who is their daughter, is actually like me. She's sort of a Timelord. Bit wibbly wobbly."

John didn't press The Doctor any further with what he was saying, because John had noticed how The Doctor's voice had saddened, and his eyes softened, towards the end of his narrative, as he got onto the subject of River Song. The same way Sherlock's did when Irene Adler was mentioned.

Outside, in the corridor, Sherlock inwardly sighed in frustration. The entire reason for them picking up John was so he could have a consultation with someone he trusted on his evidence before presenting it to the others.

"Coming, John?" he called impatiently. A moment later, his sidekick joined him.

"Coming where?"

"To the lab of course. I need to show you something."

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><p><strong>So there you have it :). A massive thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favourited, etc. It is greatly appreciated, trust me :). Please, please, keep the reviews coming :D. Thanks!<strong>


	5. Chapter Four

_**Um... Good evening :). It's time for Sherwho! Sorry for the lack of updates, I have found myself lacking in internet of late. But yes, we're back now, clearly. This one's kinda short, but it's more a filler chapter to carry the story along. We'll try and get the next one out soon though, promise :D. Also, thank you so much to all the reviewers, favouriters and alerters- you guys are brilliant :D.**_

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><p>"You see, John?" Sherlock said, thrusting the dresser drawer at John and indicating the message. "Someone wrote this, presumably a callback to a threat that had been made previously. This isn't just a random kidnapping. They were after her specifically."<p>

"Why though, Sherlock? And who? I mean, I know accepting help isn't your... strongest point, but perhaps if it's someone... not from Earth, then you'll need The Doctor's help whether you like it or not." John's eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, his hands swinging by his sides; he was strugglilng to keep up, Sherlock could tell.

"It's somebody Mrs. Williams has had contact with in the past, that much is obvious. Someone she doesn't want her husband to know about. You see this? She painted over the message with nail varnish. But what I don't understand is the phone. Why leave it under her bed? It's safe to assume that isn't Mrs. Williams' doing. So why would the kidnapper leave behind a clue?"

"Maybe this kidnapper wants to be found."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Sherlock mumbled, examining the phone. It was password locked, easy enough to crack. But there was little point. There was nothing on it. No messages, no recorded conversations. Just a call history, and none of the numbers were saved, aside from one marked 'Rory'. And he was certain that Rory wasn't the culprit, although he had entertained the thought for all of ten seconds before dismissing it again. "I think it's time to share these findings with The Doctor. We should see what he's got to say on the matter."

"No need, Sherlock! Heard every word! Come back up here though, please. A face to face discussion would be better," came The Doctor's voice from nowhere.

Sherlock jumped up, rushing from the lab and through the winding corridors, John in tow.

He entered the control room, where Rory and The Doctor were waiting.

"Ah, Holmesmei-" The Doctor stopped with a small shake of the head from John. "Sherlock. So someone left a message for Amy to find and she decided to hide it from ol' Rory here, eh? Well, well, well, this is all very interesting."

"It's odd that the nail varnish was even there," said Rory. "It's her favorite. She would have taken it with her. God forbid she chip it..."

"You have enemies, Doctor?" Sherlock asked, completely ignoring Rory. "You said this had happened before. Is there anybody, anyone specific? I already know where we're going, of course, but I'd like to know what-or who- we're dealing with."

John looked at Sherlock in surprise. "You know where we're going?"

"Yes John, do keep up," Sherlock said in a long-suffering tone. "I've traced the ink from the message to its planet of origin. Quite simple really with the technology on board. I must commend you, by the way, Doctor. Very advanced."

A slow smile spread over The Doctor's face, until he was beaming at Sherlock.

"Brilliant. You've figured out the computer system here on board. Oh, I knew you were good."

"Yes," Sherlock stated impatiently. "Enemies?"

"Oh, lots. But none worthy of mention, no. There was an organisation called 'The Silence'- did I mention them? I'm sure I must have- but they've been dealt with."

Rory had been listening to this in thoughtful silence, but now he looked up and addressed The Doctor.

"He knows where Amy is? What are we waiting for then?"

"Wait, Rory. We can't just rush off."

"But Doctor, that's what you do. You rush off all over the place," said Rory.

"Yes Rory, but I have no idea where we're going, as of yet. It would be best if I actually knew."

"Tell him then, Sherlock!" said John.

"Nucon Nine," Sherlock said, in a loud, clear tone that seemed to reverberate around the room.

The Doctor looked surprised.

"Doctor? Do you know who and where it is?" asked Rory impatiently.

"Errm... No, actually, Rory. Sorry." The Doctor suddenly sprang into action and was tapping things into his screen. "Well, according to Sex- the TARDIS, it's in quadrant nine of the Mesuma galaxy."

"So what are we waiting for, Doctor?" said Rory.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had been standing in the corner, not offering any council, just waiting.

"If you're unfamiliar with these... people," John put in, "would it not be best to find out about them first? Know your enemy and all that."

"Nonsense, John," Sherlock smirked. "That's boring."

"John, I have to say that's the sensible route, but I'm not known for being sensible, you see."

" You can say that again," muttered Rory.

"Anyway, my best friend is in danger. No offence Rory, you're a close second. Nonetheless, I will not allow that fact to stay a fact. I am going to change it as quickly as possible, and I fully intend to now!"

And with a quick flourish, The Doctor set the TARDIS in motion.

"You should probably sit down, Sherlock," smirked John to himself, remembering Sherlock's fall earlier on.

"Yes, how _are_ your cheekbones?" The Doctor asked absently. Sherlock barely suppressed his scowl.

"I think you'll find, Doctor, that John was being... funny" -he said the word with an air of distaste, like it was dirty- "when he said that." He cast a glance at John. "Or attempting to, in any case," he added.

"I thought it was rather amusing," The Doctor replied mildly. Then he suddenly grinned as the TARDIS landed with a thump. "We've landed!" he cried unnecessarily, leaping down the stairs and running to the door. He turned around. "Come on then, everyone, what are we waiting for?" He turned back around to the door to open it. "Oh and, Sherlock?"

"Yes?" Sherlock responded curtly.

"Stop looking so annoyed. As you said before, it was only a joke," he said with a wink to John. 

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><p><em><strong>Okay, so finished! No, not the story, silly reader. The chapter. God, get with it ;). So farewell until next time! Oh, and please, please, review- even if you hated it. Reviews get cookies and chocolate and milkshake and other nice treats, 'kay? Metaphorical treats, obviously, but still... Just review, yeah? :D.<strong>_


	6. Chapter Five

**Hello!**

**Uh, basically, updates for this are fairly slow. But to be fair, we're co-writing, so it's tricky to coordinate. And also, it's always sketchy as to whether I'll have internet or not.**

**But we're updating now, so whatever! Enjoy :).**

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><p>They stepped from the TARDIS to be faced with a blank landscape. The air was clear and breathable although Sherlock detected a metallic tang to it that nestled deeper into his throat with each breath. The sky was darkened, casting a soft green glow over the sand-like substance that seemed to stretch for miles in every direction.<p>

Sherlock turned to the Doctor, whose features were cast in ghostly shadow by the dim, tinted light.

"Can't you land somewhere closer to civilisation?"

The Doctor, seemingly ignoring Sherlock, inhaled deeply. "Strong smell of mercury on the planet, but fine for humans to breathe." He looked around. "What happened to Rory and John?" He re-entered the TARDIS, and found them looking baffled and reluctant. He informed them it was safe and so they followed him back to Sherlock's side.

"In answer to your question, Sherlock," he said at last, "she landed herself. I had nothing to do with her destination. She took us to Amy."

Sherlock turned away, his keen eyes searching for anything he might have missed the first time. Then, even though he knew he would find nothing, he rounded the TARDIS to survey the horizon and ensure the ship hadn't been blocking anything. Satisfied that he had been thorough, he returned to the Doctor's side.

"There's nothing in any direction, but that's not to say this place is deserted. I suggest we explore. John?"

John looked visibly surprised to have been addressed, seemingly caught up in amazement. "Yes?"

"Pick a direction."

John thought for a moment, looking around. Then, shrugging, he gestured carelessly to the right.

"That way?"

Sherlock gave a brisk nod. "Excellent choice." Then, without further ado, he set off in the opposite direction. Rory looked at the Doctor.

"Is he going the right way?" he asked tentatively.

"Well... I don't know. But there isn't anything else we can use, and he's the best we have. We're going to have to trust him. I know it's probably hard for you, Rory, trusting this complete stranger to find your beloved wife, but he really is the best man for the job. I promise."

Rory still looked uncomfortable. "I suppose..."

He started after Sherlock and John. The Doctor (still mid flow about how Sherlock seemed to be the best man for the job and how the TARDIS picked Sherlock up so he _must_be the best man for the job) didn't realize Rory had jogged off. He turned around and saw they were in the distance, Sherlock striding ahead with John a little bit behind him, and Rory even further behind that. The Doctor quickly made a hasty run towards them.

They walked on for a good twenty minutes, mostly in silence- aside from the Doctor, who was busy telling John about the sand, which tasted surprisingly similar to that of another planet he had visited when he had begun travelling. Every now and again, Sherlock would pause to stoop down and dig a small hole and then examine its inside for several moments. Rory watched him work in confusion, but he had guessed that if he asked about this strange behaviour directly, he wouldn't receive a straight answer- or any answer at all. Eventually, he leaned in toward John, lowering his voice as he spoke.

"What's he doing?"

"God knows. He must have a hunch."

Sherlock's voice rang out before Rory could reply."Correct, John, I do have a hunch. And, as is to be expected, I'm right."

The Doctor moved to see what Sherlock had found and the other two followed him, peering into the hole. It took a moment for their eyes to see anything in the darkness. John got there first and looked at Sherlock.

"Pipes? There are pipes under here?"

"Exactly. And where there's pipes, there's people."

"But this is an alien planet. How do you know-?"

"I would suggest that if the atmosphere here is similar to Earth, the creatures are. These are man-made, or the alien equivalent."

"So all we have to do is follow the pipes?"

"Precisely, John."

"I'm impressed!" said the Doctor. "You simply are a rather impressive man, Sherlock, and I don't offer compliments on intelligence often, because I am usually the most intelligent person around. Anyway! To it! Lead the way, Sherlock!"

Rory observed that the Doctor was doing particularly well in the less dominant role, because he was usually the leader of such expeditions. He thought the Doctor almost seemed relieved. On further thought, Rory realized he probably was. He'd spent weeks searching for Amy to no avail, for this man to come along and get a lot further than he had with the investigation in a matter of hours.

"How are we going to know where the pipes are leading?" John asked, looking around. "All I can see is sand."

"They sound different underfoot. Doctor, you and I will listen out for any change in the sound our footsteps make. I expect your ears are sharp enough. John and Rory, your job is to be quiet. We will proceed in complete silence. Understand?"

Rory looked affronted at his commanding tone. "There's no need to be so abrupt," he muttered.

"Mr. Williams, I would like to remind you that I am not required to help you. My time is valuable and whilst I would rather not leave such an intriguing case unsolved, I could easily return home and resume my life, leaving you to_ attempt_," he stressed the word deliberately, his cold eyes narrowing, "to locate your wife. I can assure you that your chances of success will be far higher with my aid."

Rory prepared a retort, but decided to hold his tongue just as he opened his mouth to tell Sherlock to shove his help. The end result was him stood with his mouth opening and closing, trying to find some words that would appease Sherlock whilst making it clear that he had, in fact, been travelling a long time and should therefore outrank the detective. No such words seemed to exist, however, and so all he succeeded in doing was affirming Sherlock's suspicions that he severely lacked wit.

"Might I suggest, Doctor, that you leave the goldfish behind next time. He's clearly not cut out for adventure." He turned on his heel and began to follow the line of the pipe.

"Rory, that isn't attractive," the Doctor commented. "Come _on _Rory." The Doctor tugged on Rory's arm.

"Doctor, I don't like him. At all." Rory commented.

"Rory, as I have said, and he has also said, he is our best chance of finding Amy. That is what we want. As soon as that is done, he can go home and everything will be back to normal, with Amy where she should be. Now come on, stop dilly-dallying. We need to be off!"

John made to follow his three companions, having been watching Sherlock and Rory's exchange and mentally noting to tell Sherlock off later. Before he could move two steps, he felt something clench around his ankle. Before he could see what it was, he was pulled off his feet, landing heavily on the ground.

"Sherlock!" he called instinctively, but the Doctor reached him first. As the Doctor pulled what seemed to be a strange torch from his jacket, John felt himself being dragged away slowly. Panting as the sand scuffed against his skin, he struggled to turn over, peering down at his legs to see what was happening. About a hundred metres away, there was a head sticking out of the sand.

John's immediate response was revulsion, as the head was clearly not human, but he overcame it quickly and turned his attention to _how_he was being dragged along. The thing had an arm outstretched, it seemed- an arm that was receding slowly into where the creature's shoulder must have been. The hand was clamped around John's ankle- thick, strong fingers ending in pointed talons. He was picking up speed, unable to stop himself. He scrabbled at the sand, but he could find no purchase.

A startled shout of "Doctor!" followed by a soft thump told him that Rory had been grabbed too. All John could do was watch in horror as he drew nearer to the alien. He felt sickened as it opened its mouth, revealing a wide space with a swollen, barbed tongue and several rows of lethal-looking teeth.

Something sharp pricked into his ankle, somewhere underneath the creature's hand. His head spun. For a split-second, everything was topsy-turvy. ...And then there was darkness.

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><p><strong>So... yeah. That was that.<strong>

**I don't know when we'll be updating again, but we won't abandon this story anyways, so there's definitely more in store no matter how long it takes.**

**We'll try and be quick. Maybe. If we get lots of nice reviews ;).**

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favourited and alerted so far! We appreciate it :).**

**So just REVIEW really. Please? :D.**


	7. Chapter 6

**It has been... a long time, but enjoy- finally, we're seeing some damn plot in this fic!**

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><p>John woke up with a start. He stood up too quickly and banged his head on the rather low ceiling. He looked around him. Total darkness. Suddenly, he heard a strange buzzing to his left. The Doctor had his strange torch out again, and he was at the door.<p>

"Doctor!" John was pleased to see him. He was glad he wasn't alone.

"Indeed. John. I am also here, and Rory is... somewhere on the floor. I don't think he has quite recovered yet," Sherlock said loftily. "Now, Doctor. Can you get us out of here any time soon? I don't like to be delayed in my work."

"I am trying, Sherlock, but considering this isn't working, and it usually does, I'm going to conclude this door is either deadlocked, or wood," said the Doctor.

John's eyes were wide as he tried to take in his surroundings, straining to see through the gloom. He could see the fuzzy outline of a door by the light of the Doctor's torch-device, but aside from that the room seemed to be completely devoid of anything.

Stooping slightly, he attempted to move towards his companions, but tripped over something fleshy that gave a moan as he struggled to find his balance.

"I've found Rory," he said as he righted himself. Out of the blackness came Sherlock's sarcastic tone.

"Congratulations, John. Excellent detective work."

"Shut up, you arrogant..." He let the unfinished insult hang, reaching above his head to feel the earthy ceiling. "We must be deep underground, way below the sand."

"Yes John, another excellent deduction," said Sherlock, in the same bored, sarcastic tone.

"Eureka!" The Doctor suddenly cried. "I've got it open!" The Doctor had realized that the door was indeed, made of wood, so he had given it a good kick, (because the Sonic still can't do wood) but during their exchange, Sherlock and John didn't notice, and Rory was still coming around.

Sherlock became suddenly aware that the Doctor was no longer present and strode off in the direction of the door, leaving John to help Rory, who was only partially awake.

"What happened?" he groaned as John attempted to help him to his feet.

"Kidnapped by aliens, by the looks of things," John said grimly. "Oh, and mind your-"

John was cut off by a loud crack as Rory's head collided with the ceiling. Rory groaned, but John had no time for sympathy.

"Come on," he urged, tugging Rory's elbow. "The Doctor just left and Sherlock followed. If we don't move now, we'll lose them."

They stumbled to the door and stepped through into a room that was equally as dark but the ceiling was high enough for both men to stand upright. There was a faint green glow ahead and John realised that they were in some sort of corridor.

Abandoning Rory to fend for himself, John jogged towards the glow, knowing it would be the Doctor's torchy-thing. Rory followed, slowly and painfully, cursing The Doctor, Sherlock and all manor of other things. The Doctor called for John and Rory over his shoulder, to make sure they was following.

"Rory? John?"

"Yes, Doctor, I'm here," John replied.

"And what about Rory?"

"He's... coming," John replied. The Doctor stopped for a second to check.

"Come on, Rory! We haven't got all day, or even a spare second at the moment!" With that, The Doctor turned and stalked after Sherlock, quickening his pace to catch up to him.

"This tunnel is on a downwards slant," Sherlock said, without turning. "I suggest we try to find a turn off. One that leads to the surface."

"Well, Sherlock, you're the one in front. Do let us know when you find one."

Not for the first time, Sherlock's hugely inflated ego was getting on John's nerves. "Sherlock, piss off." John was irritated, his ankle still hurt from being captured, and his head hurt from hitting it. He was thoroughly disheartened.

"Oi!" the Doctor objected, pointing first at Sherlock, then John, then wagging his finger at both of them. "Play nice. And watch the language!"

Behind them, poor forgotten Rory puffed along. He was still groggy and struggling to keep up.

"Can you lot slow down a bit?"

"Oh, Rory, you're still with us! Good!" The Doctor was enthusiastic. He always was with potential alien life, or just something abnormal. "It would be nice if you could speed up, though."

"Well I flipping concussed myself, didn't I!" Rory grumbled.

"Oh come here, you big girls blouse." The Doctor ran his Sonic over Rory. "Rory, you are fine. Not even concussed."

"Now is hardly the time for a medical examination," Sherlock complained, coming to a halt. "Honestly, Doctor. You speak as though you adventure often and yet you act so cluelessly."

"The Doctor bounds through time like a rather excitable dog." Rory suddenly said, sounding thoughtful.

Before the Doctor could protest the metaphor, a loud grating, grinding sound filled the air as the ground began to shake. All four men turned to the source of the sound, immediately blinded as a section of the wall slid to one side and the corridor flooded with brilliant light.

Once their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, a large silhouette formed, breaking off into six individual figures- the outlines of some beings that were most certainly not human...

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><p><strong>Okay, the end. Thank you as always to reviews, favourites, etc. And now, surprise time... DOUBLE UPDATE! YAY! Alrighty, so review and I'll be right back with part two xD.<strong>


	8. Chapter 7

**AHA! Double update. Told ya, didn't I? Enjoy!**

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><p>The beings were translucent, with greying skin. The light shone through them, illuminating the blue veins that ran through their bodies. Although they were humanoid, there were no bones visible beneath their flesh, and yet they stood strong and tall, with nothing but a smooth, featureless surface where their faces should have been.<p>

A previously unseen crease in what would be a human's left shoulder opened and as one, the creatures spoke in a jarring symphony of high-pitched screeches.

"Humans are escaping! Rebellious prisoners must be obliterated!"

The group of two humans, one questionable human and one definitely non-human backed up. The aforementioned questionable human turned to John.

"John- you're given to irrational emotions. If you feel inclined, I'll allow you to panic."

"That's very gracious, Sherlock," John returned sarcastically, and was rewarded with a smirk.

"We'll call it your birthday present, shall we?"

"Now now, come on! You boys... Or indeed, you girls... Or potentially multi gendered... Wouldn't want to be too hasty now, would you? Killing us would be a huge waste... Because... Because..." The Doctor looked pointedly at Sherlock. Rory saw his look and decided to step in.

"Because you can't experiment on us if we're dead!" he exclaimed.

"Rory!" The Doctor said with surprise. "Shut up!"

Rory looked wounded, but shut up. The aliens spoke again.

"We have no need to experiment. We know more of the human race than they could ever know."

Sherlock snapped into full Sherlock Mode, striding forward confidently.

"Then why take us prisoner?" he demanded. "What could you need us for?"

In response to his proximity, the creature in front raised his 'hand'. A beam of silver light flooded from the palm and slammed into Sherlock, directly into his chest. He flew back, crashing into the wall and sliding down beside John.

"Jesus, Sherlock!" he exclaimed.

The Doctor ran straight over to Sherlock, and scanned him with the Sonic. "Don't worry John. He's fine. He's just out cold. Don't complain, bit of peace and quiet!" he said cheerfully. "Now, as my friend here asked, why take us prisoner?"

"We are Guardians. You have arrived on our planet unannounced. This will not go unpunished."

"Guardians?" Rory repeated, confused.

"Uh... A bit like immigration," the Doctor said, passing the Sonic Screwdriver from one hand to the other nervously. "But a lot less nice," he added darkly.

"Oh. So is that bad then, Doctor?" Rory asked, voice thick with nerves.

"Well, it could be better, but it could be worse." The Doctor said.

"How exactly, Doctor?" Rory asked.

"Well, we're not dead, but we are captive and the people keeping us captive are crazy ghosty people who can zap you with their hands. Also, Sherlock's a bit unconscious. John, any sign of him coming around yet?" The Doctor asked.

"I think so, he's flickered his eyelids a bit." John replied, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"What are you going to do with us?" Rory asked, because it seemed nobody else was going to.

"Prisoners are executed," the 'ghosty people' chorused. "You are no exception."

Rory and John looked expectantly at The Doctor. "Doctor, I am not going to die before I find my wife." Rory said it as a statement; he was going to find Amy and there was no question of it.

"You have no say in this matter!" the aliens cried. "Execution is imminent!"

Together, they raised their hands. Swallowing his fear, John darted forward, his own hand outstretched.

"Wait! Please! If this is the last thing I say, I want to say it!"

"You threaten us?" the aliens roared, and John realised his outstretched palm could be construed as an insulting gesture, given where the aliens' weaponry was placed. He dropped it quickly.

"No, no, sorry, I'm just a human, I'm unarmed. But let me speak."

"Make it quick," the aliens said, and now they sounded snappy.

"Temper, temper," came Sherlock's arrogant tone. He sounded weak, but John was relieved all the same.

"Ignore him," John said, and he realised his knees were shaking. "Guardians, please hear our side. We didn't come to this planet to move into your land. We aren't immigrants. My moronic friend and I-"

There came a mumbled, "Takes one to know one," from Sherlock, which John ignored.

"-Are just detectives, assisting these two gentlemen in their search for a missing woman. None of us knew of your planet until our investigation brought us here. We beg you for mercy."

"I never beg," Sherlock put in. Now certain he was alright, John kicked his leg backwards and caught the detective's leg. Sherlock didn't seem to notice, and John considered kicking harder, but decided he could wait until later and murder him instead. Provided they survived of course.

Miraculously, the aliens were lowering their hands.

"This woman you seek- is she a redhead?"

"Yes!" Rory interjected excitedly. "You've seen her?"

"She arrived on this planet with our enemy. We could not capture her for fear he would wipe us out. Perhaps we can form an alliance."

At this, the Doctor darted forward, looking jubilant. "Yes, yes! A nice, peaceful alliance! You brilliant, reasonable creatures, you! Let's have a chat, shall we? I don't suppose you've heard of Jammie Dodgers...?"

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><p><strong>Sorry for errors, I'm really tired and my editing is not at its best. But review, pretty please? :).<strong>


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